The Daughters of Olympus and the Pandora's Box
by olympiandaughters
Summary: <html><head></head>Kayla Winter (Apollo), Stephanie Morgan (Iris) and Meghan Ashton (Hecate) are thrown together when they each join Camp Half Blood. Together they are given a quest to fill Pandora's Box with three different godly items that pull them halfway across the world. They must learn to work together, and with their differences it's certainly not going to be easy. OC and PJatO characters!</html>
1. Kayla - I

I woke to my mothers's voice, "Kayla, it's time to get up now. You'll be late for school!"

I threw my covers of my face, and pulled myself out of bed. I was definitely _not _a morning person. I trudged over to dressing table and yanked a brush through my bird's nest hair that fell half way down my back. My hair was the reason people stared at me, because I dye it fiery red, fading into a sunset orange and the tips a honey yellow. I grabbed the nearest thing top from my chair – a white blouse my mother had selected for me - and pulled on a pair of denim shorts that I'd abandoned on the floor earlier in the week. I shoved on my tan army boots and carmine scarf, walking down the stairs for breakfast.

"It's a lovely day today, Kayla. I don't think you'll need a coat,' Mum stated.

"I wasn't planning on wearing one."

"Pancakes or porridge?'" She asked.

I pondered over the choices. It must be a special day, because it's normally bran flakes or brown toast.

"Pancakes, please." I took a large gulp of apple juice.

"Coming right up, sweetie!" She sang which was weird because she's always in her best of moods in the winter. Mum's an ice sculptor and she gets a lot of commissions for large swans and hearts and reindeer for the Christmas season. I love to help out, but the ice always melts whenever I'm near it. I can be sat in my room, and Mum's outside and she'll yell that I need to go out, because her ice is pooling around her feet.

"So...Mum, what's the special occasion?" I asked suspiciously.

"Oh! Nothing! I just wanted to make a treat for my baby girl."

I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, Kayla, cheer up! Today is going to be a good day for you, I can feel it." She reached over and gave me a cuddle, her strawberry blonde hair tangling withmy fiery locks.

"I'm going to miss you," she whispered into my hair.

"Miss me? Where am I going?" I laughed.

"Oh, the pancake needs flipping!" I didn't question her rubbish excuse, but my stomach started to flip, and I wasn't sure I was that hungry any more.

I drizzled maple syrup over my pancakes and we ate in peace. It was just me and Mum and I liked it that way.

After breakfast I ran back up to my room and almost tripped over the family cat, Chocolate. "Is it really going to be a good day?" I asked him, not expecting an answer. But he replied with knowing eyes and a nudge round my pocket. "No, I haven't got you any food, but if you go downstairs now you can probably get some toast," I told him. His green eyes lit up and he raced past me in a bid for breakfast leftovers.

I clipped my white watch around my wrist, drew black lines around my eyes, dragged my lashes through a layer of mascara, and touched up my lips with a shimmery pink. All part of the morning routine.

"Hey, Miss Winter!" I heard my best friend Bailey say to Mum downstairs.

I raced down the stairs, almost tripping on Chocolate for a second time, because he'd found a comfy spot on the eighth step nibbling the last of a slice of toast.

"Bailey!"

"Hey, Kayla!" She called back. Bailey Pathos had long black hair that fell just above her waist. She wore it in a high ponytail with a moon hair clip. Her eyes were a deep grey, and her skin was like snow. She wore her usual black biker boots, a navy long sleeve top and a white waistcoat, with black shiny buttons. We were polar opposites, and she always moaned that it wasn't fair that I tanned so easily.

"You ready to go?" Bailey asked.

"Yeah, just let me grab my ba-"

"Actually girls, I'll be taking you in the car today," Mum interrupted.

"Oh, sure," I said, and picked up my bag.

I realized that Bailey had straightened her fringe and that normally only meant one thing, "you stayed out half the night didn't you?"

She didn't meet my eyes. "Kayla you would have loved it!" she gushed after I poked her in the ribs. "It was a full moon." Bailey said as if this explained everything.

"You know I don't like that dark," I said. "I prefer sunshine, it's better for the skin."

"Well, I prefer the dark, and you should come out with me sometime."

"No thanks." I pushed my hand up in surrender.

"Come on girls. We need to get in the car," Mum said, agitation crept into her tone. She looked around frantically as if trying to find something.

"Mum, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, love. Just get in the car for me, please," she added through clenched teeth. I did as I was told. I slipped into shotgun and Bailey lounged in the back. "We have plenty of time, Mrs. Winter," she said casually. But Mum didn't seem to be paying attention. I saw a muscle jump in her jaw, but she kept her hands white knuckled to the steering wheel, and pulled quickly out of our drive.

The scenery rushed past in a blur, as Mum applied even more pressure on the accelerator. Col-de-sacks and crop fields flew up, until the landscape changed quickly and we were rushed into a world of skyscrapers, traffic and streets crowded with people.

"Mum, I think you took a wrong turn," I said in amazement. As sign posts screamed at me in bold, that we were headed to New York.

"Where does it say we're in New York?" Bailey asked confused. "I thought that sign said Yowk Ren!" She laughed. At that my Mum put her foot even harder on the pedal, the wheels of the car barely touched the surface of the road. The brakes screeched as she steered the car onto the curb.

"Mum you can't park here, there are yellow lines." But somehow I don't think she heard me. She held my wrist and grabbed at Bailey's elbow, steering her in the direction of the Underground.

"Where are we going?" Bailey asked in confusion.

Not to school, is all I could think. We were led frantically by Mum, who was practically running, but I had no idea why. We pushed past everything; hotdog venders, school children, elderly ladies walking their small terrier dogs. Nothing could stop her from taking us…wherever it was.

After minutes of walking we finally came to a big sign and stairs that plummeted underground.

"The Underground," Bailey whispered, as my mother got ready to mount the escalators that churned in frustration at the weight of so many people. We added to the load as we hurriedly mounted the moving slope.

"Come on, come on!" Mum said under her breath.

"Excuse me," she said politely brushing past hulking shoulders of workmen with briefcases, and women in business suits. Their nostrils flared at the sight of us, and their hands moved slowly to grasp my shoulder.

Mum looked back, which had definitely been a mistake. I whirled round to see what she was gapping at. The eyes of the women had turned red and they looked hungry. They bared their savage teeth looking deep into our nightmares.

"Run," Mum whispered into my ears. It was all I needed. I pushed Bailey in the small of her back. "Suited women trying to kill us at 6 o'clock." I had no idea why we were suddenly running, and even less of clue as to why I was so calm.

Bailey turned expectantly, took one look at the deep red eyes that had doubled in size and ran. Well, moved as fast as she could without knocking over mums with shopping bags and three year olds clinging to their legs. The escalators were still blocked but Bailey insisted on saying, "excuse us" to each person. We gained some space between the monsters, and ourselves, with Mum racing to catch up with us.

"Go! Go!" She spurred us on, flapping her hands wildly to encourage us to keep pushing.

The escalators felt like they sped right down into the Underworld, it was weird that I'd thought that and I certainly didn't realize at the time it would actually be true.

Voices pounded through my thoughts, calling me to stop and be carried away by the metal waves. I fought hard, gaping at the back of my best friend's head as she grasped hold of her hair, wailing at the pain.

She heard it to! I thought excitedly, but the pain thumped through my mind, as the voice was getting calmer, more soothing like a warm bed after sports in the frosty afternoon.

Mum clocked what was happening and yelled, "the rail! The rail!"

Bailey looked at the escalator's rolling banister. She mounted onto the black snake and slid quickly down. I did the same, hauling my school bag with me. Mum called at me to keep going, but I jumped off the banister, fought the steps and grabbed her hand, pulling her along with myself onto the rail. Unfortunately, the women in suits had the same idea.

I screamed. Signaling to Bailey more than to let people know I was in danger, but as I looked back everyone's clothes had started to turn into dark hooded cloaks and their faces aged a thousand years. I paused for a moment and looked at the writing on the escalator steps. My eyes were drawn to a cloaked man holding a long spear, blood frozen in a trickling motion off the tip.

Ronald Bucksworth. Died 1842. Forest. Bear accident.

I looked at each step I could see in turn and they all had similar writing styles. Name, when they died, where and how.

"Do you see anything?" I called to Bailey, suddenly too aware of the women catching up on us.

"TURN NOW," Mum yelled.

_Hang on? How did she know, it was almost as if she guessed this was going to happen. _

Bailey turned, and so did I. Mum, clinging to my blouse sleeve, pulled herself along with me. We tumbled off the edge of the rail and found ourselves at the normal Underground platforms. People were real, and we had just escaped death, but the women in pinstriped suits flowed fast.

The station was silent and the air was cold, the subway crawled with the slow life of people travelling to work. That was the majority of them anyway, all sipping double latte mocha frappaccinos, but to them we didn't seem to be standing out from the crowd. Two school girls, Mum and the band of three monsters quick on our tail. I had no idea where I was going. We were underground and I felt cramped, like the walls were closing in on me, and my head still throbbed with the lost voices of the dead.

"Kayla?" Bailey ushered, motioning for me to join her by the toilets.

"What?" I whispered.

"Who are they?" Bailey asked at full decibel.

Mum was just around the corner, looking out for anything that might try to attack us again. "Furies," she stated it calmly, for she had known it all along.

"What?".

"You heard her." I whipped round at the echoing sound ringing in my ear. It wasn't my voice, Bailey's or Mum's. It was – gulp – theirs.

The eyes of a monster, starved, red, bulging and hungry, met mine. The woman's mouth gave a mocking grin, one of the three grabbed hard at my wrist, clawing at my skin, drawing blood. Bailey screamed, but the sound was lost in the rush of the next subway train. No one turned or even took any notice of us, just walked straight past.

Mum, who was being smothered by the two other Furies, had been brought next to us.

Bailey's facial expression screamed, _what do we do?_ I widened my eyes and shrugged in reply. Mum looked sleepy, like they were drawing her life away. Bailey shut her eyes tightly and suddenly everything went pitch black. I couldn't see where any of the old hags were, but I could still feel the coldness they brought in the air. My arm had been released in the spontaneity of it all, and the Furies had jumped back in fright, but their eyes still glowed telling us where they were.

Bailey opened her eyes and the lights flickered back on as if they had never been off. We stared at each other in amazement. She closed her eyes again and I grabbed her hand and waved my arm about until I caught hold of my mum. We all ran, guiding Bailey through the darkness.

"You can open your eyes now, Bailey," Mum soothed as we crouched by the janitors closet.

"Mum, seriously, what the heck is going on?"

She cowered away in the corner and I knew there was something that she wasn't telling me, but we'd always shared everything, except for one thing that I was never told…

"Is it something to do with Dad?" I whispered.

She nodded solemnly. "Kayla, sweetheart, just know that I always wanted to tell you, but I had to wait until you were old enough, it's not right to tell a little girl their Dad left because he had-" she struggled to find the right words. "Special duties."

"Like what?" I hissed. Infuriated at the sudden thought that my father thought there was something more important that he should be doing, rather than raise his own child.

"Ummm…guys…" Bailey whispered.

"Mum! Like what?"

"Guys-"

"Your father's-"

I held my breath.

"Apollo."

"WHAT?"

And then Mum wouldn't stop talking. Apollo, as in the God of the sun, music and healing. Artemis's brother and a God of Olympus. Apollo, from one of the Greek myths she used to tell me as a child before I fell asleep.

"Guys!" Bailey shouted.

We turned to see what she was looking at. The Furies had caught up, and were running towards us. _Do they ever get tired?_

I picked up my bag and started running for about the hundredth time that day, honestly I had done more running than I would have done in a cross-country race.

We followed Mum, who surprisingly, or maybe not so much, seemed to know her way around. We were chased up three flights of stairs until we emerged at the subway's _Starbucks_.

"Bailey, lights." Mum nodded at her. Once more she shut her eyes tight and concentrated. I slipped my hand into her's and led her to where Mum was squatting underneath a café table. I bent down and Bailey copied. She moved to put her hand down, but I caught it before she got the sticky surprise that had been waiting. The smell in the air changed, from thick coffee and chocolate to death and decay. We edged round the seats, and through the maze of stools. The Furies had no idea where to look, which was a good thing of course, but neither could we, which was definitely a problem. _Apollo. Hang on! Sun, music and healing_, I thought triumphantly. I tried to imagine the scrapes and bruises, from where Fury number one had grasped me, disappearing, but no luck.

_Sun, sun, sun_. I repeated the word over and over in my mind, palms outstretched to see if anything would happen. It took me a split second to realize that I could actually see their faces. There in my hand was a small orb of light, radiating the space around us.

We crept around the deserted café, avoiding fallen liquids and cookies, but when there's light in a dark room it's kind of obvious where it is. We managed to escape quietly, but we could hear things being knocked over and screeches of horror as the Furies bumped into masked tables. Mum led us back in the direction of the subway trains, we ran even though we weren't sure if we were being followed. Mum pulled out three gold coins from her purse.

"I've been saving these for a long time," she whispered to me, as she slipped the coins into the slot. The white screen on the ticket machine changed to a vibrant orange and strange lettering appeared, it was definitely foreign but I seemed to be able to read it:

"Camp Half-blood," Bailey and I said in unison.

This seemed to reassure Mum, so she clicked on the big black button with her long white nails and three tickets were printed. Two half-blood tickets and one supervisor. _Well, it's a bit different from adult and child_.

We waited for our train, when it pulled up it was a sleek black with the same orange lettering as before.

The people behind us, with a flash of pinstripe suits, let out shrieks of laughter. We knew automatically who was behind us.

"You just don't know when to quit! Do you?" Fury number three hissed.

At that moment the doors of the train cracked open.

_No! This is not the time you seek, _

_Their time will come in the cold and bleak. _

_For now is not the start of end,_

_Quickly yet, they must choose their friends. _

_Why kill now? When there's only two,_

_Wait till they're there for the final few._

The warning ran though my mind, Bailey's and apparently the Fury's. They re-coiled in a mist of angry black smoke, their bodies dissolving back to the Underworld.

I looked up at the…things…that had saved us from the second chance the Furies had to kill us. There were three of them. Their skin was thick, wrinkled and leathery, they wore hooded cloaks, and each had thin wisps of hair that covered their eyes. _No. Wait, hang on. Eye, as in the singular_. They had one eye between them! They smiled demonically down at us. _Oh wait…yes they only had one tooth, between the three of them as well._

"We are the Grey Sisters," the one with the tooth announced.

"Camp Half-Blood?" said the one with the eye.

"Well, come aboard," whispered the third.

Mum was the first to step onto the subway train, nodding at each sister in turn. They nodded back and one of the hags reached out to me and pulled me onto the train. Another helped Bailey up, and the six of us walked along the shadowy carriage to where three seats were propped.

"Tickets!" The last one shrieked. Mum handed her the tickets and they shuffled into the driver's carriage, each sitting in one of the places.

"Camp awaits," the first chuckled to herself, and with that the train pulled briskly out of the subway onto old worn tracks to the place we had been waiting for; Camp Half-Blood.

I stepped out of the train as soon as it pulled into the stop, the warm sun replenishing my skin. I stood still and basked in the heat, sighing as the rays hit my face.

"Well, girls, this is where I leave you, I'm afraid," Mum said, as she hugged me close.

"Mum-" I whispered into her hair.

"No, we aren't having any of this," she said, but her voice wavered. "This is the best thing for you. For both of you," she said and pulled Bailey into the bear hug. "I'll see you soon, and make sure that if anything happens, you contact me, okay?" She asked sternly.

"Of course I will, Mum."

"It's just up there, girls. I'll see you soon!" She hugged us both again and wiped at her eyes, claiming it was because of the breeze.

Bailey and I walked hand in hand up the hill, gazing at the dark, tall pine tree with what seemed to have a dragon coiled around it.

I guess we both didn't really get it then, but I knew that things were going to change, and maybe not for the better.


	2. Meghan - II

I should have known the world was going crazy when I managed to fast forward through my history lesson.

It was a Friday, the last day before winter break; I was dying to get out of class and my ADHD wasn't helping things. I sat at the back of my history class trying not to draw attention to myself whilst Mr. Nixon droned on about America's presidents and whatever it was they did for the country. I didn't particularly care much for American history since I was born in the UK, but I usually tried to focus. Today I just couldn't be bothered. Mr. Nixon's monotonous voice tuned in and out of focus, and people's conversations buzzed in the background as I fiddled absentmindedly with my necklace. This was why I sat at the back of the room. I was away from the trivial, childish gossip of Seventh Grade and the stupid people who spread it. Not to mention, being the British kid with the weird accent meant most of it was usually about me anyways. But I was used to it, and I knew how to act like it didn't bother me: pile on the sarcasm and joke around, then get into trouble and laugh it off. Easy.

_I was ranting in my head again. Brilliant._

The lesson dragged on. All the while I was begging for the clock to move just a little bit faster, so I could get home to my dad before he left for work again, when the voices of my classmates began to sound muffled. It was as if everyone was talking at ten times the speed. I thought maybe it was just my ears so I ignored it, staring at my worksheet and trying to work around my Dyslexia, until the classroom began to blur around me.

That's when I began to worry.

My teacher's fuzzy image was collecting the sheets now and before I knew it the cleaners were coming in to tidy up. The classroom was emptied, and the sun started to dip below the skyline.

_Stop!_ I thought, frantically. _Stop stop, please!_

I screwed my eyes shut, pleading that when I opened them again things would be back to normal. I waited for a few seconds before opening one eye slowly. No blurry images, and no muffled voices. The sun was sinking toward the rooftops at a normal pace. I sighed in relief and hastily pushed all my school stuff into my shoulder bag.

My seat and desk were untouched, as if they hadn't sped up either, like a bubble had separated anything around me from the time lapse. I strode towards the door only to find it was locked. The windows were shut too. I was stuck. Never before had my couldn't-care-less façade been stretched this far. I started to panic, none would be here over the holidays and if I couldn't get someone's attention I was trapped.

Straight after my sudden realization, a shape appeared outside the door. A shape I recognized as the new janitor. I say 'new', he started round about the same time I did, nine months ago. He was Caucasian with curly brown-hair, brown eyes and a goatee. He couldn't have been more than 5'12 in height and no older than nineteen. How he ever got the job I don't know. The staff called him Grover. I stepped back from the door in surprise as he unlocked it in a hurry and pulled it open.

"What are you doing in here?" He questioned.

"I could ask you the same question," I retorted, trying to sound more confident than I felt. And failing.

Grover gave me a quick glance. "Are you okay?"

I tried to look indifferent. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Listen, go back to your dad and tell him what happened," muttered Grover as he steered me towards the main doors.

"What, that I got locked in a classroom?"

"_Exactly_ what happened." He gave me a knowing look and closed the door behind me.

I ran all the way home and didn't pause once. My trainer-clad-feet pounded through the busy Philadelphia streets until I reached my dad's apartment. It was a small place on the third floor of a big apartment block near the city center. Dad kept it tidy, but we never seemed to stay in one place for long. Back when I was little my dad and I moved to Washington D.C from Petersfield in the UK. I was only two years old so I didn't remember much about where we lived before other than it was near the countryside, and our house backed onto this huge woodland. But what I remember best is gazing out of my bedroom window at night and being able to see the stars so clearly for miles around. Since then we've moved four times in the last ten years. Dad never told me why, only that we needed a fresh start.

Dad's name is Philip Ashton and he's a Travelling Sales Rep for this big company, but back in Britain he was a guidance counselor at this local secondary school. That's where he met my mother. He never mentions her to me anymore, other than to tell me she was the best choice he ever made. Then he laughs softly to himself like he's enjoying some inside joke and he gets these little laughter lines around his eyes. He gets dimples too; something I inherited, regretfully, I tell you. People say I have his eyes too - clear blue and intelligent. His hair is nothing like mine though, it's short, straight and honey blonde whereas mine is long, black and wavy. I wouldn't say he's a tall man, and I just about come up to his shoulder. Figures. Now only does that give my peers the chance to mock me for my accent, genetics throws my height into the mix.

When I got home I fumbled in my bag for the key, but before I had a chance to find it my dad was at the door, a concerned contorted his features. He stepped aside and I ducked past him into the room. The door slammed shut and I braced myself for his anger. Sure enough I was soon bombarded with questions.

"Meg, where were you? I've been worried sick! Did you get into trouble, get detention?" When I didn't answer right away he paused for a moment. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, until realization dawned on his face, and he let out a long sigh.

"What happened this time, hon?" His tone was gentle rather than accusing.

I took in a shaky breath.

"It was an accident. No-one got hurt or anything but I…I just…I …"

It all came out in a rush of hysterics. I told him about the lesson, the blurring, the time lapse, the underage janitor, and the way he looked as if to say I'd done something stupid and dangerous and the cops would be on my case in seconds.

For some reason, none of this seemed to surprise my dad. He just nodded and grimaced in all the relevant places until I'd finished talking. Then he slowly stood, ran his hand through his hair and turned to face me.

"Meghan, pack your things as quickly as possible. We have to leave tonight."

I sighed. Moving, again. "Where are we going?"

"New York City. Long Island to be precise."

"Why?"

Even before I asked I knew what the answer would be. It would be the reason dad had given when we first moved from Washington D.C to Quantico, what he mentioned when we moved from Sacramento to Philly.

"Because I have to keep you safe Meg."

Just what I'd expected.

"But this is the last time, I promise."

Okay, that part was new.

"Oh, and a friend of mine is coming with us. Your janitor, Grover Underwood."

"What! Why?" I stammered.

"Because he's your protector, and I can't go to the same place you're going."

"You aren't making any sense. What does all this have to do with me going mad?" I asked.

"I can't explain right now honey, but Grover can when we get to New York," he called from the door.

As he headed out to get the car I started packing in a daze. I still had no idea what was going on and now, all of a sudden, my school janitor was road tripping to New York with us. But the more I thought about it the more I realized that weird stuff had happened to me before. Like the time I was five years old and colouring in a picture at school, and I needed the red crayon and someone else was using it. I was about to cry and the red was suddenly in my hand, and the person using it before was left holding the green. Then there was the incident in the kitchen last year when I could have sworn I burnt the cookies that were in the oven, but when I looked back they were fine. As I finished packing I looked around my room one last time, and I got the feeling that after everything that had just happened, my life was about to get a whole lot more complicated.

The 150-mile journey to New York took the best part of four hours. Before we left I'd changed into my green vest top, and slung a black jumper top over it. The neck hole was too large so it fell completely off on shoulder – that's what I got from buying second hand, I guess. Lastly, I grabbed my high top trainers. I would _not _be seen without the. We travelled east along interstate 80 until Dad pulled up outside a hotel and gestured out the window towards a familiar looking Grover, waiting nervously for me to arrive.

"Now, stick with Grover and listen to him Ok? He knows what he's doing," he called as I unloaded my bags from the boot, or trunk, or whatever.

"Mm hmm." I mumbled. Like I'd ever listen to a janitor.

Grover came hurrying over to help so I backed off and opened the door to talk to my dad again.

"I still don't get what a summer camp has to do with all this," I muttered. "Least of all in autumn."

The information I had since been given about a mysterious camp for kids was still a bit vague for my liking, but at least I knew what to expect now, right?

"Love you, Megs. Be careful ok?"

"Whatever dad, I'll be fine." I tried to sound cheerful, but it wasn't quite working.

My dad nodded and put the car into gear. "Bye sweetheart."

"Bye," I called as he pulled away.

There was a brief silence before I turned to Grover and smiled. "So," I said as I strode over, trying to relive the tension; I didn't like uncomfortable silences.

"What do we do now, take the Subway?"

"No!" he bleated. Yes, bleated!

I frowned. "Why not? It's not like there're any poisonous monsters down there. Unless you count the last tube home on a Friday night."

I thought it was funny. Grover didn't look so convinced.

"You'd be surprised," he muttered. "Come on, we'll take a Cab."

He hailed a taxi and we climbed in the back, and while Grover was busy giving some pretty specific directions to the driver I sighed and looked out the window. The cities we'd stayed in were always so big and busy you couldn't even see the stars most nights. The Cab pulled away and already Grover was muttering under his breath. He was too quiet to hear, but that only made me more interested in what he was saying. Even as I thought it, I could feel his voice becoming clearer, but it would fade in and out like bad reception on a radio. I was able to catch a little of what he was saying though, and all it did was confuse me further.

"…three in one day…just like she said…depending on their parents…such different personalities…Chiron will know…"

I sucked in a breath. Grover looked over at me and I continued to stare casually out of the window, watching the city traffic disperse as pine trees replaced the skyscrapers. I began to fiddle with my necklace, a simple black key on a delicate silver chain. What Grover was talking about I had no idea. All I could gather was that three kids had come to this camp in one week, some lady had said it would happen, who our parents were might determine how well we got on, and that some guy called Chiron seemed to have all the answers. If I wasn't confused before, now I was downright stumped. But something else was nagging at the back of my mind.

_Chiron. _

I'd heard that name before.

"Alrightie folks, this is your, err, stop."

The driver looked confused, and so was I. It was dark now, and we were in the middle of nowhere, with dense forest on each side. But Grover seemed satisfied and paid the driver as we both climbed out. After retrieving my bags, Grover suddenly seemed on edge again. He kept glancing around nervously over his shoulder, as if he expected something to leap out and bite us at any minute.

"Um, thanks," I murmured to the driver.

"No problem darlin'," he called as he started the engine and pulled away down the road, kicking up a small trail of dust as he left.

Grover was unusually quiet. No muttering or nervous glances. In fact he seemed almost pleasantly surprised. "Unusual. No monsters. Nothing trying to eat us."

I doubt I was meant to hear that, but my patience was wearing thin. I dropped my bag and sat on top of it, folded my arms and sighed. "Right, that's it. Who are you? How do you know my dad? Why did you drag me one hundred and fifty miles to Long Island? And what do you mean by monsters?"

Grover looked panicked again.

"You want the truth?" He asked.

"Definitely"

"Well, ok. Just don't freak out, or run, or scream, or anything like that."

Now, normally when someone says not to freak out, you end up freaking out, so yeah, I was worried.

"Okay," I said, dragging out the word a little. "From the beginning."

Then I knew I was totally done for. I'd driven across state lines with a psychopath who thought he was a satyr from Greek mythology and that I was the daughter of a Greek goddess. He actually believed that he had been assigned to protect me from the disguised monsters hidden all over the country that were out to kill me, and that we were going to a place called Camp Half-Blood that was built to train other 'Demigods' like me to fend for ourselves in the real world. His explanation as to why humans never saw anything was a magic Mist that messed with their minds. We were alone. In the middle of nowhere. He was nuts. But, weirdly enough, I believed him.

It explained everything, even the name Chiron; the centaur from Greek legend who trained heroes like Achilles and Hercules. Only problem was that now I had to accept that the monsters from Greek myths were real as well, and that several of them would no doubt try to kill me.

Grover raised an eyebrow at me. "You're taking this well."

"Yeah, well…I mean…no big deal right?"

Truth is I was freaking out on the inside, but being an expert at looking disinterested, I smiled casually. That's when I heard it. It was a low, rumbling growl that sent shivers up my spine. A howl echoed through the trees and Grover grabbed my arm and pulled me into the forest.

"Knew I spoke too soon," he called "Come on!"

We seemed to be headed up a steep hill towards a huge pine tree that had a mass of cables wrapped around the trunk. I didn't pay much attention, but I could have sworn they were moving. I quickly glanced over my shoulder to see what it was we were running from and quickly wished I hadn't. A huge coal black hound with burning red eyes and razor sharp claws the size of carving knives was perusing us. Its mouth was pulled back in a snarl revealing several rows of grizzly yellow teeth. Grover, who had since kicked off his shoes and jeans, was now sporting a very strong, very hairy pair of legs. He was powering on at a speed I could barely keep up with. _Ok, so he really is a satyr_. _Well, it's all right for him but some of us don't have goat legs._ I thought. We were nearly at the top of the hill by now, but my legs were aching badly.

"Get past the pine tree and we're safe. That's the boundary line," yelled Grover as we reached the peak of the hill.

I put on a burst of speed and finally managed to catch up to him when another piercing howl rang through the night. The vicious hound was only meters away. As we reached the pine Grover flung himself forward and I did the same, fully expecting to feel a very painful sensation as I was munched on by an oversized, rabid black Labrador. Instead all I heard was a loud _thunk!_

I peeled my face off the grass and propped myself up on my hands, turning to see the slightly disorientated beast prowling up and down by the pine tree. It seemed to give me an angry I-won't-forget-this look before slipping into the shadows and disappearing. Now that I wasn't running for my life I could clearly see the tree, and the cables were moving. Only they weren't cables at all. It was a dragon, a huge scaly fire-breathing dragon. I tried to crawl backwards, but I winced in pain and glanced down at my left leg, which was now sporting a deep gash down one side. My head started spinning. I wasn't brilliant with blood.

"What just happened?" I mused as Grover came over to me.

"We were chased by a hellhound," he breathed.

"As in the dog from the underworld?"

"The very same."

"And what's that?" I gestured to the dragon curled around the tree, snoozing gently.

"Oh, that's Peleus. Don't worry; he's really very friendly once you get to know him."

"What's he doing here?"

Grover grinned. "Guarding the Golden Fleece."

My mouth fell open. "The actual Golden Fleece? Really?" I grinned even wider than Grover. "That is so cool!"


End file.
